The Fall of the Prodigal

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Nigel had his head buried in the court documents. He did not flinch at Michael’s outburst.

  “I’m not quitting on you, you imbecile! I’m helping you win the case. Nigel is the man for the job.” Verona didn’t miss Nigel’s sideways glance at her compliment. She was surely going to catch heat later. But, she only told the truth.

  “I can vouch for that as well,” Keith said.

  Michael snatched her by the arm and led her into his study. Verona felt charred from the heated darts aimed her way. “Are you finished with your temper tantrum?” she taunted.

  He glided right into her space. His powerful arms flanked her sides, effectively holding her prisoner. “I’m fighting for my life and you’re making this about you. It’s childish and amateurish. I insist you get your act together.”

  Who was he calling childish? She would show him childish. Verona stuck her tongue out at him. Before she could return her tongue to its warm cave, Michael held it with two of his fingers.

  Michael tugged her tongue to bring her closer to him. He stroked her appendage and she tasted the saltiness of his fingers. Verona squirmed, hating how her heartbeat increased. She jerked her head for Michael to release her.

  “My own personal tiger,” he drawled, playing with her loose ringlets. “This hairstyle suits you well.”

  So he noticed she had been to the hairdresser to have it cut and layered. “Let me go,” Verona whispered, pushing against steel.

  “No.” He lowered his head. “I’ve discovered the best way to tame you.”

  Her mind registered Michael’s intentions. She pushed harder against him. “Quit playing games this—”

  His mouth crushed hers. Verona heard a moan. Startled, she barely recognized her own voice. Sensations rocked her being. She had forgotten the thrill of being thoroughly kissed by a man who knew what he was doing. Oh, yeah. Michael definitely knew what he was doing.

  Who knows how long they were caught up in the love play? Michael ended the kiss. He gloated. “I think we have to answer that.”

  “What?” she asked in a daze.

  “Keith’s been calling our names and knocking on the door. We’d better go see what he wants.”

  Heat seared her cheeks. Verona covered her face with her hands. Keith and Nigel had to know what they had been doing in here. How embarrassing! Oh, Lord, Keith was a minister. He was bound to reprove them with a Biblical tongue-lashing.

  Michael remained unfazed. He adjusted his clothes and glided through the door with a puffed chest. She, however, needed a moment to gather her wits. Verona rushed to the nearest bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. Examining herself in the mirror, Verona concluded there was no way she’d be able to hide the fact she had been kissed. Her lips sparkled with a rosy hue.

  “Come on, Tiger, you can’t hide out in here. You’re made of tougher stuff than this.” Holding her chin high, Verona ventured out in the living room and stopped short at the woman grasping Michael’s shirt.

  “What the—”

  “I think we should get married,” Lauren suggested, clinging on to Michael’s shirt. Her demeanor bore the remnants of a desperate woman. That was the only explanation Michael could think of for why Lauren would announce that in front of everybody.

  Talk about awkward.

  “Married?” Verona sputtered.

  Michael glanced at Verona. Her face testified of what had been going down in his study. However, he was preoccupied with the woman grabbing on to him. He wiped the sweat beads lining his head. Self-conscious, Michael eyed the occupants in the room praying for a rescue.

  He watched Verona edging closer. How was he going to extricate himself from this without bloodshed? Both women were feisty and were likely to think fist first. Keith signaled to Nigel. They left the room. Verona remained rooted. Michael knew better than to ask her for privacy.

  “This must be the infamous Lauren,” Verona said.

  He stammered, “Lauren, you told me you were dating someone. What’s his name again?”

  Lauren addressed Verona. “Yes, I’m Lauren, Michael’s girlfriend.” Then she looked his way. “I’ve changed my mind. I want us to be a family.” She twisted her hands.

  “Are you offering marriage because you think it’ll help Michael’s case?” Verona asked.

  Michael held up his hand to ward her off. “Let me handle this,” he cautioned before turning back to Lauren.

  Lauren’s eyes widened. Her gaze swung between the two of them. “Are you and she . . . Are you? I can’t even say the words.”

  Michael shook his head. “No, you’re wrong.”

  “No? Tell that to my lips,” Verona yelled.

  Lord, if you could intervene right about now, I’d be at your mercy forever. Michael tried to decipher the expression on Lauren’s face. She was . . . disappointed?

  Then Lauren squared her shoulders. “Did he tell you he wanted to be with me and our children?”

  Verona’s eyes bulged. She pierced Michael with a look able to freeze Hades. “Children? You have children?” Verona held her stomach as if she’d been sucker-punched.

  Michael had not told anyone about John and Olivia. No one knew about them except for Keith, Gina, and his mother, who was resting in her grave. “Yes, I have twins. John and Olivia.”

  “Why am I just hearing this?” Verona hurled.

  “Michael does know how to keep a secret. Believe me. I know,” Lauren said with a contemptuous curl of her peach-colored lips.

  “Who keeps their own children a secret? What kind of father does that? What kind of man are you, Michael Ward?” Verona asked.

  “Verona, calm down and let me explain—”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down! Answer the question, Michael. Did you know about your children?”

  “Yes, I—”

  Verona cut him off. “How could you neglect to mention you had two children when you had your tongue stuck down my throat not even five minutes ago?”

  “Ah, I—”

  “Answer me!” she bellowed. Her eyes flashed red.

  Michael scratched his head. “Yes, but let me—”

  “I don’t want to hear another word from your lying, deceitful mouth.” Verona grabbed her belongings. “I’m out of here. I never want to see your sorry face again!”

  “Verona, wait!” Michael rushed after her.

  She ignored him and rushed out of the door and possibly out of his life for good.

  Michael trudged back to where Lauren stood waiting. She played with her nails with the smuggest expression written on her face. Lauren is enjoying this.

  Lauren eased off the wall and clapped her hands with slow deliberation. “I deserve an Academy Award. Your girlfriend bought that act, hook, line, and sinker.” Lauren pumped her hands in the air.

  Was she high? That would explain Lauren’s erratic behavior. “Why did you come here?” Michael demanded. Besides to ruin my relationship with Verona.

  She smiled. “The reason no longer exists. I had hopes for us, but I’d be blind not to see how you feel about her. May I use your restroom?”

  Michael had whiplash from her conversation switch. Confused, he pointed toward the bathroom. Imagine his gratitude when Keith walked into the room.

  “So you and Verona?” he asked.

  “Are over,” Michael said. “Lauren made sure of that. I’m not even sure why. She’s using the bathroom.” Wait a minute, where were his children? Michael asked her as soon as she returned.

  “They’re safe. Speaking of children, I’m going home to them.” Lauren opened the door.

  Keith’s cell phone rang. Michael had been about to go after Lauren when he heard, “How is that possible?” Keith raged to the caller. “He’s right here. I’ll have to ask him.”

  Michael dismissed Lauren from his mind. He had too much going on. It would take him the rest of his life to figure out the enigma known as woman.

  Seeing the dread on Keith’s face, Michael’s heart thumped. “Ask me what?�
�� He mentally prepared himself, but Michael wasn’t ready for Keith’s revelation.

  “The semen found in the condom on the scene is yours.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “He swears it’s not his. When Michael heard about the semen, he sank to the floor,” Keith informed Gina. Snuggled under their thousand-thread count sheets, he wrapped Gina close to him welcoming her comfort. Her presence soothed him. He had been stewing on the devastating news for hours.

  Gina cupped his face with her hands. A tear slid down Keith’s cheek. “I don’t know what to believe. DNA doesn’t lie. There’s no doubt it’s Michael’s. He says he didn’t touch Mindy.”

  “Shh.” She pressed her mouth onto his.

  “I can’t lose him, Gina,” Keith whispered. “I just got him back. I’ll love him no matter what he’s done but”—he gulped—“this would be a bitter pill to swallow. The thought of Michael doing harm to that girl . . .” Keith shook his head.

  “Are you listening to yourself right now?” Gina asked. “Where’s your faith? Did it evaporate under some DNA? What about God? You said He brought Michael home. I admit I fought your decision to defend him. But, I’ve seen the old Michael, the one I married. I’m telling you there has to be an explanation.”

  “Well, look at how the tables have turned,” Keith said.

  Gina averted her eyes. “Yes, I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth either. But, I know God’s leading me to encourage you. Michael needs you. He needs you to fight for him. I’ve always felt guilty I came between the two of you. I destroyed your bond. Now I’m seeing the rebuilding and I know this is God’s doing. All praise belongs to God. If this isn’t the modern-day prodigal story, I don’t know what is.” She gripped his arm. “I have faith in you, Keith. You’re walking in your calling. If you remember, getting there wasn’t easy. Now Michael is at that fork in the road. I know it’s only the beginning. The road isn’t easy. But, it’s better if you’re walking it with others.”

  “You’re right. When did you get smart?” Keith squeezed her with affection.

  “I was born smart,” she quipped.

  “I’m sorry I even doubted him for a minute. I left Michael at his lowest point. Even if he’s guilty as ever, I should be by his side.”

  “Don’t be sorry or too hard on yourself. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t have doubts. Counteract every single doubt by finding the truth.”

  Keith felt love swell in his heart at Gina’s encouragement. He whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. You complete me. I love you.”

  Gina’s eyes filled with tenderness. “Oh, honey, I love you too.” She touched his cheek. “Michael loves you. He needs you. He needs his big brother to be his champion. I’m going out on a limb here, but what if both stories are true?”

  He shifted. “What do you mean?”

  Gina sprinkled his bare chest with kisses. “I mean what if both Michael and Mindy’s version of the events that night are correct? What if the truth is a puzzle? Put all the pieces together. What if someone is setting him up?”

  A bolt flashed through him. Keith sat up. “My Lord, I never thought of that angle! Gina, you may be on to something.” Vestiges of Michael’s and Mindy’s statements sprang to his mind. Since Mindy had refused a rape kit, there was no way of knowing if she had actually been penetrated. What if the assumption was made because of her incoherent words and the blood on the scene? He rubbed his chin. Something was not adding up. There was an element missing. He needed to figure it out.

  Keith slid his body to the edge of the bed and jammed his feet into his slippers. He had to get to his study.

  “Don’t I get a reward?”

  Hearing Gina’s suggestive tone, Keith senses went on full alert. He made an about turn and lost his breath. She had removed the covers and had fashioned herself into the most intriguing pose. Keith rejoined her on the bed. “You most certainly deserve to be awarded for your insight.” He splattered kisses across her neck. “Your brilliance,” he continued, moving to her bared shoulder. “Your unequaled intelligence.” He dipped lower.

  With bated breath, she egged him on: “Yes. What about my, ah, my . . .”

  “Superior reasoning?” Keith finished, working his magic with his hands and lips.

  “Hmmm hmmm. That and my . . . my . . .”

  “Logic?”

  “Yes, ah, oh, logic,” Gina added.

  Keith searched for another word. By this time his brain was on lockdown. He spoke to her in a more intimate way. She screamed. He smiled.

  When he went to sleep, Keith was optimistic all would be well.

  When he woke up the next morning, things fell apart.

  Natalie called. “Bishop Combs tried to kill himself,” she said.

  Keith’s heart hammered in his chest. “What? When? How?” His voice rose with each question.

  “Gunshot wound to the head. He was found inside his vehicle. He left a note confessing to everything. He didn’t die, though. The news reporter said he’s unrecognizable,” Natalie said.

  Gina stirred and questioned him with her eyes. Keith covered the phone to fill her in. Her eyes widened and she shot out the bed. “I’m going over to the foundation. We have to prepare a press release.” She raced into the shower.

  “If he was going to off himself, he could’ve at least left a check,” Natalie bemoaned through the line.

  “Somebody almost died.”

  “Yes, a coward. I know. But the foundation is going to face the brunt of the public’s disapproval. Please tell me he signed the requisition?” She phrased the statement as a question.

  “Yes, he did. I’ll write the check to cover the funds. I know the government will dig but we have nothing to hide.”

  “Keep your money. We’ll go after Suzette. The police are looking for her. Massive manhunt in progress.”

  Keith hated how cold that sounded.

  His other line beeped. It was Deacon Broderson. His house phone rang. It was not even nine a.m. Keith massaged his temples and turned on the news.

  Bishop Combs’s face was plastered all over the screen.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “It’s three o’clock in the morning! For the fifth time, go home!” Michael yelled, suppressing a yawn. He had spent a harrowing day helping Keith sort out the mess with Bishop Combs. His brother had then asked him to find Suzette Combs.

  Michael had also poured more money through Tiger Trust into the foundation. He was sure they would rebound. His case was another matter. Michael tossed and turned for most of the night dwelling on it. Just when he had fallen asleep, crazy showed up at his door.

  “I’ll kill myself!” the woman screamed through the door. “Did you hear me? I’ll kill myself.”

  Michael thought of the bishop. Is suicide in style?

  Michael paused. What if she made good on her threat? He could not take that chance. Against his better judgment, Michael opened the door. He pulled the bedraggled visitor into his penthouse.

  When the door slammed shut, an eerie sensation filled him. He should have stayed in the hallway. After all, it was his accuser who stood before him.

  “Mindy, you shouldn’t be here,” he warned.

  The raging woman now had a childlike voice. “I had to come. I had to warn you.” Nervousness apparent, she contorted her hands like a pretzel.

  Michael touched her arm. She flinched.

  “Listen, big boy, we’re here to help not to be manhandled.”

  He backed off. “I’m sorry.” Did she say we? Now Mindy sounded like a jaded ingénue. What was going on? He eyed her with careful precision before realization hit. This girl was mentally ill. As ill as her brother Carl must have been. Her hair was uncombed. Her hospital gown stuffed into a pair of jeans. Mindy’s face bore the bruises from her brutal beating.

  Michael felt compassion but he had to ask the question that had his head throbbing all night. “Mindy, how did my semen end up in the Ritz?”


  She blushed and covered her cheeks. “You said semen.” Her girlish giggle made Michael’s head spin.

  “Mindy?”

  She straightened. “I don’t know how it got there. I think Mousie’s friend, Elle G, put it there.” Her eyes glazed. “Things are kind of murky in my mind.” She nodded. “Yep. I think it’s her.”

  Michael could not follow this conversation. It was like he was in an episode of that old-time television show, Herman’s Head. “Who’s Elle G?”

  Mindy placed a finger over her mouth. “Shh. She made me promise not to tell. She’s my secret friend.”

  Now Mindy sounded like a five-year-old. Michael lost patience. Mindy must be high on prescription drugs. She was not making an ounce of sense. And, who had an imaginary friend at her age?

  Michael wondered what was in his body scent to make him attract psychos. He needed to get Mindy out of his place before she brought even more trouble on his head.

  In a gentle but patronizing tone, he said, “Mindy, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. How did you get here?”

  She shrugged.

  Michael strode to get his phone he’d left on his kitchen counter. “I’ll call you a cab.”

  “No! I have to warn you. My dad told Finn he wanted you dead!” Mindy said.

  Michael stopped. He did not doubt her sanity this time. He knew Mindy told the truth. Bill Laurelton would seek revenge for her attack. What he had envisioned, however, was a brutal takeover of his dwindling assets. He had not expected such a lethal reaction. Then Michael thought of his children. If it were Olivia . . .

  Michael rushed over to where Mindy stood. “What else did you hear?

  “I was drugged up. I could barely keep my eyes open, but Finn is a dangerous man. I know him because I worked . . . I know him.” She leaned forward. “You don’t have to call a cab. I have one holding downstairs.”

  Michael was already running names through his head of people he could call. He needed someone with stealth and experience to handle Bill. He did not think to call God, did not know that line was never busy, did not know God was the answer.